


Sparks in Six Saloon

by Castillon02



Series: Bond Women Loving Women [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Quantum of Solace (2008), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-28 20:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7654786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castillon02/pseuds/Castillon02
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moneypenny helps out a woman who’s gotten on the wrong side of Mr. Greene. Old West AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks in Six Saloon

**Author's Note:**

> For the Camille/Moneypenny spot on the 007 Fest femslash prompt card. 
> 
> In the Old West, “spark” was slang for a lover or beau, and “sparking” was courting.

Moneypenny sat with her back to the wall, a perfunctory beer in one hand, her eyes always flicking from the saloon doors, to the gambling tables where a few regulars were shuffling dominoes, to the bar. Especially to the bar. The real drinking and gambling would start in the cool of the night, but Mr. Greene, a prospector who owned part of the bank, had come in a quarter of an hour ago and paid her for a bottle of top shelf, looking as pleased as a jackass eating cactus. 

Self-congratulation from Mr. Greene had to mean something had gone wrong for somebody; the question was whether that somebody was still alive to try to put it right again. **  
**

A stream of desert light flickered into the shade of the Six Saloon as the doors swung open. When they closed, Camille Montes was standing on the other side of them, a tall willow-rod of a woman wearing a fiery orange blouse and a sensible brown twill skirt, bright and dark colors like a copperhead. She paused like most people did when they entered, surveying the room as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer environment. When she spotted Greene, her hands clenched into fists and her eyes gave a good try at freezing him solid. “You tried to have me killed!”

The low murmur of conversation between the dominoes players died instantly. Moneypenny set her hand on the pistol holstered over the skirt of her dress, but bided in her seat while Camille came stomping towards Greene.

From the look on Greene’s face, Camille showing up here hadn’t been in the plan. Probably he’d underestimated her, thinking that her beauty and willingness to have sex with him meant she was a gold-digging tropical flower instead of a tough survivor of Bolivia’s various coups.

“Camille,” Greene said once Camille was standing in front of him. He smiled his oily smile and glanced at Moneypenny before saying, “ _If_ I had tried to kill you, it would have been such a shame that it hadn’t worked, wouldn’t it?” 

A hypothetical clause. More ambiguity than Greene would have used three months ago. They were bringing law into this town, little by little, she and Mayor M and the rest of the Six gang.

“Admit you tried to kill me,” Camille snapped at Greene. “Don’t dance around like a snake on a skillet just because you failed. And admit that you were wrong to do it, because I was trying to help you, you—”

“Help me?” Greene asked, mocking. “I’m sure you were, darling. Asking a scientist to come sneaking around my claim—”

“So he could survey your mine, you stubborn man! So he could help you!” Camille’s lips jutted in a pout and her brows drew together with hurt. She was doing a good job playing at the outraged, victimized, heart-of-gold lover.

Unfortunately, Greene wasn’t buying it any more than Moneypenny was. “Whatever he was doing is a bit of a moot point now, isn’t it?” he asked, and this time his glance at Moneypenny was sly.

Damn. She’d have to tell Sheriff Mallory to be on the lookout for another body in the desert.

“And I suppose,” Greene continued, slick as the devil, “that whatever may or may not have happened to you is a moot point as well, unless you can provide some evidence linking it to me.”

“No, no evidence,” Camille said. She straightened out of her placating pose, her lip curling. “But if it’s a point you want, I can provide that!” She plunged her hand into a pocket of her voluminous brown skirt and when she withdrew it she was holding a long dagger.

Greene went for the Smith & Wesson in the holster under his shoulder.

Moneypenny finally stood up, the scraping of her chair drawing Camille and Greene's eyes to her. She'd slipped her Peacemaker out of its holster, and the click of her thumb cocking the hammer was loud in the silence. “Get out of my saloon, Greene,” she said. She suppressed a sigh. Why did it have to be Greene’s murder she could prevent today?

Greene sneered at her and the muzzle of his gun veered in her direction. “Or what?” he asked. “You going to try to make some peace at me?”

As if on cue, the saloon doors swung open. Deputy Bond walked in, his knuckles bloody, and his reputation as the sharpest shooter in town came with him, seeming to suck the air out of the room. Bond scanned the situation and then settled in by the door to give Greene the eye. When he met Moneypenny’s eyes, he gave a small shake of his head, the ghost of a cold smile on his lips.

Bond had killed the bastards who’d tried to kill Camille. Visceral satisfaction warmed Moneypenny’s belly, but they needed Greene’s minions to rat out their employer, and they couldn’t do that if Bond kept helping them into the grave. As it was, they were going to have to let Greene go.

“Skedaddle,” Moneypenny said to Greene, “or I’ll charge you for the Six air you’re breathing and the Six ground you’re standing on, and maybe for the six new holes you’ll find in your body, too.”

Greene threw back the rest of his shot, but the threat had him out the door less than a minute later. The dominoes players went back to their game.

“Damn him!” Camille said. She’d never once let Greene out of her sight, and now she watched as the saloon doors swung shut behind him.

Moneypenny walked over to her. “Looks like you could use a place to stay,” she said. Camille had been rooming with Greene. “If you can stand to live above a bar, I have a spare mattress that I’m told isn’t too lumpy.”

“In exchange for what?” Camille asked, her eyes narrowed.

“In exchange for telling me all of your troubles,” Moneypenny said, giving Camille her most charming smile. When Camille still looked uncertain, she added, “You’re not the only one who’d like to see Greene rotting in a jail cell.”

“I’d like to see him swing,” Camille said, and then, “Does this bed come with board too?”

Moneypenny’s smile came easier this time. If Camille was haggling, she was going to stay. “You can earn meals by taking a shift minding the bar,” she said. “I could use another pair of hands at night.”

“Seems fair,” Camille said with a nod. Then she moved in so close that Moneypenny could almost feel the heat of her through her petticoats, tilted her head down, and bussed Moneypenny’s cheek. “Thank you for your kindness, Ms. Moneypenny.” 

Moneypenny was grateful her dark skin hid some of her blush. “You’re very welcome, Ms. Montes, but you don’t need to do that.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” Camille said, “except exact vengeance on the people who have wronged me and mine. But,” her eyes lingered warmly on Moneypenny’s face, “there are some things that I don’t need but can’t resist, so maybe I’ll see you in my not-so-lumpy bed sometime.” She winked and darted up the backstairs to Moneypenny’s apartment.

Bond sauntered over to her. “A princess for Six’s black knight?” he asked.

“None of your nonsense,” Moneypenny said, but she slid behind the bar and poured him a glass on the house. She was glad Camille was alive.

Bond’s grin widened. “But if anyone deserves a princess, it’s you, Sir Moneypenny,” he said.

Moneypenny laughed a little. “I think Camille can fight her own dragons.” She poured a shot for herself. “But a little help from Six couldn’t hurt.”

Bond tipped his glass at her. “To vengeance,” he said, “and to Six, and to beds with beautiful women in them.”

“To Six, and to Camille,” Moneypenny said, clinking her glass against his.    

They drank.

Bond filled up his canteen and went back on patrol. Moneypenny returned to her seat, watching and waiting. This was the West, and even if Camille hadn’t turned over Greene’s anthill, someone was always ready to make trouble.

Luckily, Moneypenny and the rest of the Six gang were always ready to make trouble, too…for the troublemakers. And with Camille around, well—

An image flashed through her mind: she and Camille, tending bar and plowing through biggity buckaroos and chiseling crooks who thought they could get away with what they oughtn’t. 

Moneypenny couldn’t wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is welcome <3


End file.
